


mayflies

by SapphyreLily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, look i'm not gonna hide it, unrequited feelings, writing this made my heart break ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: It's too fast- He's taken aback- He never saw it coming.Being confessed to shouldn't feel this awkward.





	mayflies

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED THIS
> 
> Inspired by [Mayflies by Benjamin Francis Leftwich](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k18pI-dp-D8)

Sharp. Like the glare off the water, like the sting of a needle under skin.

Startling. Not just unexpected, but completely new.

_A mouth moving, forming words he can never unhear._

Uncertainty. The setting in of doubt, new feelings beginning to grow.

But were they really his feelings before? He doesn’t remember having them before he was…confessed to.

(It echoes round his mind, a haunting whisper.)

_(Confessed to, confessed to.)_

A blurring, of old and new, of what he knows and what he wants to believe. He’s breathless, shock tearing the breath from his lungs.

_Give me some time to think about it._

(But he can’t. He can’t think, can’t process it, he’s still in shock.)

_The brightest of smiles, both familiar and strange._

_Chocolate eyes set under slanted brows, a default stern expression that he knows can be pulled into a myriad of faces._

_This is someone he knows, yet doesn’t._

_“Of course.”_

He still can’t think, still can’t accept it.

Him? Why would he pick him? They’d been friends for a long time and now–

He never saw this coming.

He’d thought– He’d _thought–_

But his friend knows. He knows who he fancies.

Who he’d probably never have.

(Is that why he confessed?)

He hasn’t yet tried. To confess. To that person he fancies. But. But but but–

It seems rude to do it now, just for the excuse of saying _No, I can’t accept your feelings._

(He can’t do it. He enjoys their friendship too much.)

(Would they still be okay, even if he rejected his affections?)

He tries to imagine it. A time where they _do_ have reciprocated feelings for each other. A time where they could hold hands and share inside jokes and maybe those things couples do like–

Kissing?

His brain grinds to a halt, the thought is shredded.

He can’t see his friend in that way. He just can’t.

(They’d be good for each other. But he can’t imagine it. He can’t imagine faking it, because it would only hurt both of them in the end.)

(He doesn’t want to try, for fear of the unknown.)

\-----

He can’t stop thinking about it.

Round and round and round it goes, the thought, like a trapped moth. Flitting, flitting, stirring up a frenzy. Quieting, flitting, flitting.

How do you tell someone, how _do_ you tell someone – that they’ve got a beautiful soul, but their colours aren’t complementary to yours?

(How could you know, if you’ve never tried?)

(Maybe you like contrasting colours.)

But…

He’s afraid. Too afraid.

(And deep down, maybe, maybe, he knows.)

(He knows, that he could never love his friend in that way.)

(The heart is fickle, and wants what it wants.)

(And it does not want his friend. Not in the way that he would like it to.)

He has to tell him.

\-----

How do you carefully reject someone?

(There’s no way. No easy way. It’s always going to be hard.)

_“I’m sorry, but I can’t return your feelings.”_

_A shuttering of eyes, the quick, heartbroken frown, before the smile is back in place._

_“I know. I thought so.”_

_“Then why…?”_

_“I thought you should know, even if we could never be together.” His friend shuffles awkwardly, offering a tiny smile. “If I ever overstep my boundaries because of my feelings, don’t hesitate. Slap me. Or something. Tell me I’m out of line.”_

_“What? No, no. Hayato, wait.” He catches his arm, hauling him back, grabbing him by the shoulders._

_Eye to eye, he finds himself at a loss for words, staring into a sea of hopeful emotion._

_(He can’t do it. There’s no kind way to say it.)_

_(He should just let it go, now.)_

_(Before he makes it worse.)_

_“I’m not going to slap you, because that’s not what you deserve,” he says. “The heart wants what it wants, and we are its slaves. I wouldn’t fault you for a slip up.”_

_Yamagata laughs; the sound is hopeless. “I know. God, do I know.” He looks away, biting his lip, exhaling heavily. “What I would give to have these emotions taken away, and we could still be friends.”_

_“Do you really wish that?”_

_(Emotions hurt. They were a pain. But without them, who would they be?)_

_“…no,” the brunet admits at last. “I don’t regret falling for you. I don’t think I’d regret any of it.”_

_He’s a bit taken aback at the blatant admission, but he expected nothing less. “Good. And you know… We’ll always be friends.”_

_Yamagata smiles a little, reaches up to remove the hands from his shoulders. “Thank you.”_

The lingering warmth, of their clasped hands – no matter how brief it was – it remains with him, even now.

He can still hear his voice – his encouragement, right at the end, even though he knew his heart had to be breaking.

(Yamagata was too good, too strong, for someone like him.)

_Maybe… In another life. In another world. Maybe, then we’d be together._

But his encouragement is what stays with him now, sure and steady and completely unwavering.

He takes a deep breath, and walks forward.

_“Semi-san?”_

_“Shirabu. Could I talk to you privately, for a minute?”_


End file.
